


Seeds of Revolution

by hollycomb



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Ancient Rome, Breeding, Evil Snoke, Forced Pregnancy, Gladiators, Implied Mpreg, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Ritual Public Sex, Slavery, Snoke Being a Dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 04:31:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8651278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollycomb/pseuds/hollycomb
Summary: A/B/O AU - Gladiator Kylo learns that he's expected to mate with twin omegas Hux and Techie to produce a strong and brilliant heir for Emperor Snoke. Written for a Kylux Hard Kinks prompt.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt](http://kyluxhardkinks.tumblr.com/post/152742337876/ancient-rome-abo-where-alpha-kylo-is-top) at Kylux Hard Kinks: "Ancient rome a/b/o where alpha kylo is top gladiator he is used as breeding stock so his owners get him twin omegas(hux and techie). Them fucking is the scheduled entertainment at some banquet and kylo is plied with aphrodisiacs to keep him going all night." 
> 
> **PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS!** It probably goes without saying but I'll reiterate that this is a wildly indulgent porn fic that is NOT MEANT TO BE REALISTIC IN ANY WAY and was written in the spirit you'd expect when reading that prompt, which is pretty grim. Kylo  & Hux do end up bonding and plotting to take Snoke down together by the end, which may make this better or worse depending on your POV!

“Do you know what you are, Kylo Ren?”

Kylo hesitates to answer. Emperor Snoke is cruel and wise and his questions have been tricks in the past. It’s strange to have so private an audience with him at all, in Kylo’s modest personal chamber as opposed to Snoke’s throne room, only two Imperial guards flanking the closed door. 

“I’m a warrior,” Kylo says when Snoke stares at him: expectant, impatient. “Your gladiator. A slave,” he adds, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice when Snoke goes on staring as if Kylo hasn’t guessed correctly yet. 

Snoke’s smile comes slowly. It’s a mocking expression but there is something truly pleased in his dark eyes, too. He seems to not approve of Kylo’s answer so much as his confusion. 

“You are those things,” Snoke says, with a single, measured nod. “And one other thing, too.” 

_A man_ , Kylo wants to say, but that would be too akin to declaring himself sovereign over his own life. He is not free. He will never be free, no matter how much glory he wins for the Emperor on the battlefield and in the arena.

“I am informed,” Snoke says, sitting back in the fine chair that has been brought into Kylo’s chamber for him, for this meeting, “That you’ve had no instruction in breeding.” 

Kylo frowns more openly than perhaps he should. 

“Breeding, as in-- Animals?”

“Not unlike them. How do you think people are made, Kylo?”

“I--” He looks away, ashamed of not knowing. He was taken from his uncle’s illegal training temple at the age of six, almost twenty years ago now, and since then his education has been purely in warfare and hand to hand combat. “I don’t know,” he admits, stiffly. “The same as animals?” That seems too grim and vulgar to be true, but the idea that babies ascend cleanly from the heavens is surely impossible. 

“Yes,” Snoke says. “Just the same. Certain humans carry the seed to reproduce, and others play host to that seed as it joins with their own materials and matures into a human life. The alpha carries the seed, while the omega carries the developing infant. Others, like myself, are betas, and we are free from the burden of breeding. Have you never been told which of these you are?”

Kylo feels overheated, uncomfortable. He looks to the guards, but they’re both staring at the wall behind him, impassive. 

“Beta?” he says, hopefully. 

Snoke laughs. “No. You are an alpha, Kylo. A very impressive specimen in that sense. The strongest and most successful alpha I have ever owned. As such, in addition to your duties in the arena and in war, you are to play the role of impregnator in two days time. The most brilliant minds of your generation belong to a pair of omega twins who have just completed work on a very important weapon that they designed for me. Now that their work in that area is complete, I require them to be useful to me again as the carriers of my heirs. As as beta, I cannot have my own children, but no matter. My mind is strong but my body is weak. The offspring produced by your physically impeccable seed and these genius omegas will be powerful both in mind and body. Do you understand?”

“No.” Kylo is too stunned and lost to genuflect or pretend otherwise.

“Mhm, I thought not. Mitaka, bring in the item.” 

The smaller guard turns for the door and reaches out into the hallway. This guard is so slight and young-looking that Kylo is surprised he’s allowed to guard something so important as the Emperor himself. He seems nervous, too, returning to the room after someone waiting outside has passed him a--

A blanket.

Kylo almost stands, though to do so in Snoke’s presence, without permission, would be treasonous. His knees and thighs shake with the desire to leap from the bed when Mitaka brings the blanket closer but not close enough. Kylo’s nostrils flare again and again as he tries to place what that heady, enveloping scent could possibly be. He’s never smelled anything like it and it is all over this blanket, calling to Kylo like a song from the depths of the sea and making his cock rise between his trembling legs. Whatever that smell is, it’s better than the freshly spilled blood of a hated competitor, better than the clearing of the death-choked air as he leads his troops away from a successful battle, better than the aroma of a sumptuous feast prepared in his honor after a victory in the arena. It’s skin and heat and _want_. Kylo reaches for it, unable to lower his hands. 

Snoke doesn’t seem displeased by this brazen gesture. He’s smiling, in fact, nodding to Mitaka to indicate that he can place the blanket in Kylo’s outstretched hands. 

“Oh,” Kylo says, as quietly as possible. He grasps the blanket and brings it greedily to his face. It’s small, like a child’s thing, and silky against his cheeks. He breathes in deeply, throbbing with need not just at the seat of his balls and along the length of his cock but across his chest and down over his arms, where the skin prickles into gooseflesh as if chilled, all of his muscles tightening with want. He wants to tear at the blanket like an animal, with his teeth, and to throw it onto the bed and thrust his cock against it even in the presence of the Emperor, and somehow he wants also to protect it, to turn away from Snoke and the others and hide it from them. His eyes are wet when he manages to look up from it and meet Snoke’s gaze again. 

“That’s right,” Snoke says, with a gentleness that makes Kylo feel repulsed even in the midst of his reverie. “That’s the scent of the omegas you will soon breed. You like it, I think?”

“It’s-- It’s-- _Where are they_?”

Snoke laughs. “Never mind, boy, and watch the volume of your voice. Soon they’ll be in reach of you. They’ve just entered their heat this morning. That’s the smell that you’re rubbing on your face. It’s their need of breeding, their need of an alpha. These two have never experienced it before. I had always given them drugs to suppress it, so that they could remain focused on their work. In two days this first heat will have reached a fever pitch for them, meaning peak conditions for breeding. At that point, they will be brought to you. You can have them as many times as you’re able, and we’ll give you a drug that will help you maintain your stamina.” 

Kylo swallows down a moan, only able to process an inkling of embarrassment over his obvious erection, which is tenting the breechcloth over his thighs and beginning to leak against it. He feels mad with pure physical sensation that defies mental order, not unlike the raging fugue that sometimes comes over him in the heat of battle. He’s overly conscious of how hard his exposed nipples are and how hot his ears and the back of his neck have become. He’s burning, burning, and only rubbing the blanket onto his face again dulls the ache that is making him want to growl powerfully in frustration. 

“Surely you know how your own equipment works,” Snoke says somewhat wearily. He stands with a tired sigh. He’s frail; Kylo could knock him over, could kill the guards, find the omegas by scent alone, he needs them now-- “But I suspect you will need at least a brief visual demonstration to show you how the breeding will work.” Snoke is heading toward the door. “Phasma, Mitaka, you have your orders. Make it quick.” 

Snoke leaves the room, leaning on his cane and joining the guards who wait outside. The ones who remain in the room approach the chair where he sat. The larger one, Phasma, is fair-haired and seems calm. She sits, and Mitaka is visibly shaken as he straddles her lap with his back to Kylo. 

“What is this?” Kylo asks as Phasma takes a vial of oil from her pocket. 

“Just a demonstration,” she says. “There, there.” She murmurs this to Mitaka, rubbing his back with her clean hand after she’s dumped some oil onto the other. “He won’t pounce on you, I won’t let him. We’re both betas,” she says, speaking again to Kylo, who is holding the omega-scented blanket over his crotch and pushing his hips up against it as subtly as he can. “Just watch my fingers,” Phasma says. “This is what you’ll do to the omegas, eh? But with that.” She nods to Kylo’s dick. “Not with fingers. They’ll be soaked and more than ready by the time they’re brought to you.” 

Mitaka sighs and rests his head on Phasma’s broad shoulder as she lifts up the back of his breechcloth. It’s made of a heavy leather, much sturdier than the one Kylo wears. Beneath it, Mitaka wears nothing. Kylo’s mouth falls open as he watches Phasma move two slicked fingers down between the split of Mitaka’s bare ass. 

“Arch a bit,” Phasma says softly to Mitaka, who does as instructed, giving Kylo a proper view of his little pink hole as Phasma spreads his cheeks, exposing it. “There,” she says, with praise, and she kisses Mitaka’s head before glancing at Kylo as if daring him to remark on this gesture of affection. As if he can even drag his eyes away from what her fingers are doing to Mitaka’s vulnerable, twitching, tiny hole. 

“How,” Kylo moans when Phasma slides one finger into Mitaka, who gasps softly and buries his head more firmly against her shoulder. “Doesn’t it hurt him,” Kylo says after he’s swallowed the excess moisture in his mouth. His heart is pounding. His cock is so hard it aches. 

“Some betas don’t enjoy it,” Phasma says. She’s rubbing Mitaka’s back with her free hand again, drawing her finger out of him slowly and then pressing it back in. Slowly. So wet. Kylo licks his lips. “But Dopheld likes it, don’t you, darling?”

“Mhmm,” Mitaka says. He presses back against her penetrating digit. As if he wants more. 

“So,” Phasma says, brusquely now. “You’ll pump your cock into the omegas like this. In and out. It will feel good for them, like an enormous relief after two days of the heat, poor things, and it will feel _very_ good for you. You’ve ejaculated before, I presume?”

“I-- What?” Ren’s face is so hot, he fears it will melt off. He glares at Phasma without really meaning to. “What’s that?”

“That thing between your legs, when you rub it and it empties into your own hand?”

Ren looks down at his cock. He’s rubbing it now, grinding the blanket over his tented breechcloth, wanting to lift it up and hold the silky material onto his bare cock, to fuck it. 

“Yes,” he says, teeth grit when he looks up at Phasma again. “I have. Done that.” 

“Good, then you know about fucking a hand. You’ll be fucking an arse like this, with the omegas-- Well, two of them. Lucky boy.”

She winks and pushes a second finger into Mitaka. He cries out, scrabbling at her other shoulder with his hand and arching his back as if he wants her touch even deeper. She obliges. Kylo watches, his mouth hanging open, as Phasma’s finger disappears entirely into Mitaka, joining the first. 

“In and out,” she says again, her voice growing slightly husky as Mitaka turns his face to gasp against her throat, his hips wiggling needfully. As she said, she moves her two fingers into him and then out, over and again, causing a wet squelching sound that makes Kylo press his palm down harder against the blanket, against his cock. “And that’s all there is to it,” Phasma says, kissing Mitaka’s head again before sliding both fingers out.

Mitaka’s hole is open just briefly, hollow in the absence of her fingers and then closing back up with little twitches. Kylo stands, sits. He wipes drool from the corner of his lips with a shaking hand. 

“Do you want to come?” Phasma asks, murmuring this question to Mitaka when he sits up, his face very red. 

He shakes his head. “Not in front of him,” he whispers. 

“All right, later then.” Phasma kisses him on the lips, more briefly than Mitaka would seem to like, as he tries to swoon in for more and she pushes him back, covering his ass with his breechcloth before helping him to stand. Mitaka is woozy with pleasure and pretty enough for a guard, but he doesn’t compete with the blanket, which still has Kylo’s attention, its scent seeming to tug even harder now at the blood roaring into his cock. Phasma steadies Mitaka by his arm as he tries to pull himself together with some deep breaths and a hand rubbed across his bleary eyes. His breechcloth is heavy enough to mostly squash his persisting erection down. “Any questions?” Phasma asks, turning to Kylo when Mitaka has got himself in order.

“No,” Kylo says. His body feels as if it knows what to do. He’s going to fuck the blanket when they’re gone. And he’s going to fuck those omegas when they’re brought to him. So hard. In and out. Over and over. 

“Your knot will swell, of course,” Phasma says. “That will feel different than whatever you’re accustomed to, when it’s stuck inside your partner. Just let it stay there until it deflates. That’s part of getting them pregnant, so it’s important to the Emperor, and I doubt you could manage to pull it out anyway. But don’t panic when that happens, yeah? It’s normal. All right, doll?” she asks, turning to Mitaka, who nods.  

Phasma knocks on the door, and when Snoke reenters she steps aside to resume her position beside it. Mitaka does, too, taking the other side of the door and still breathing in humid little huffs but otherwise composed, his gaze fixed on the back wall again. 

“So you know what is required of you?” Snoke asks, lingering in the doorway.

Kylo nods. His jaw is very tight. He wants to kill something, but he’s not sure what or why. The rush of blood through his veins and past his pounding temples feels like a rage that needs purging. 

“Good,” Snoke says, smiling slightly. “The guards will fetch you for this important task in two days. I take it you would like to keep that blanket with you, in the meantime?”

“Yes.” Kylo’s voice barely works. He feels like he would kill anyone who tried to take the blanket from him. Even the Emperor. Especially him. 

“This will be quite the show, I think,” Snoke says. He’s still smiling when he turns to go. Phasma follows him out, then Mitaka.

Then, at last: Kylo is left alone with the blanket.

As soon as the door closes he throws his breechcloth aside and wraps the blanket around his cock, squeezing hard and groaning with such powerful relief, mixed with continued frustration, that he’s sure the departing party will have heard him from the hallway outside. He doesn’t care: he grits his teeth and breathes heavily through them as he falls back onto his bed, bracing his feet on the edge of the mattress and pumping his hips up, trying to fuck the blanket harder than is possible. Without the scent of the others in the room, the aroma from the blanket fills his senses completely and it’s unbearable, wonderful, agony and ecstasy crawling over his skin and pulsing in his balls. 

“Omega,” he grinds out, as if one of them is here. He can’t even begin to imagine the bliss of two crawling all over him, both trailing this scent over his body; it seems too much. “I-- Have come-- For you-- To have you. Show me your hole. Show me where you need this cock.” 

In Kylo’s mind, the omega looks very different from Mitaka. He’s glowing, fair and lovely, skin so soft that it looks as if he’s never seen the sun, and he’s crying, desperately in need, so empty of what he requires from a worthy alpha, begging for Kylo to please, _please_ \--

Kylo’s orgasmic growl feels powerful enough to rearrange his bones, and he comes harder than he can ever remember, his cock pulsing and pulsing, more and more coating his fingers and spilling onto the blanket. 

_Good_ , he thinks drowsily, still aroused. He enjoys the idea of slopping his come all over these omegas. Oh, they will be covered in it. Dripping with it. They will moan and thank him and kiss him sweetly, as Mitaka kissed Phasma, thanking him for passing his strength into them. 

Kylo falls asleep with the omegas’ blanket over his face, still feverish with need but beginning to feel something else, too. It’s not fear; he does not know fear. But it is akin, perhaps, to the useless dread and sorrow he’d felt as a boy, when he had not yet accepted his life as a slave. 

He’s not afraid for himself, and he realizes this when he thinks again of how Phasma kissed Mitaka and rubbed his back to calm him. He’s afraid for the omegas, though he is the thing which they will be subject to. 

He is afraid of what he might do to them if he is allowed, and he whimpers into their blanket, stroking his hand over it gently. He doesn’t want to hurt them. Already he longs to protect them and hold them safe in his arms, to make them his alone. 

 

**

With no arena fights and only basic training to distract him, the next two days are agony. Kylo empties his cock seventeen times, and regrets the crusty mess that has become of the omegas’ blanket. It now smells more like his own dried seed than their lovely heat. He feels almost heartsick on the dawn of the day that promises to unite him with them, though he’s so close now to having what he wants, what he _needs_. He feels as if he’s been remade and is now composed entirely of desire, a state which he will never escape from. He’s not sure how he will go on afterward, but in the meantime he gulps the thick, sour-tasting drink that a slave girl brings before the breeding. 

“For stamina,” she says, her eyes wide as she watches Kylo swallow it down. 

He’s left alone for hours after drinking it. Time transforms into a torture device, stretching him across the rack of its slowly ticking seconds without mercy. He’s hard; the drug saw to that. His own hand around his cock feels only like increased agony. There’s no relief for him without those omegas.

When the guards finally come for him, he’s almost glad for the chains they put on his wrists and around his legs. Normally he is marched to the arena unrestrained, but he feels as if he’s lost control of himself. He snarls and grunts at the guards, hears himself sounding like an animal but cannot seem to cease it. He’s nude, his breechcloth left behind in his room, but he cares not for modesty and even in the chains he marches proudly. He is the one who has been granted the honor of having these omegas. No one else in the Empire will do. 

He’s expecting to be brought to the omegas’ bedchamber and is surprised when instead he’s lead into a small theater with three rows of raised seating around an oval-shaped stage. The stage is dressed with only a low cushion that is three times the size of Kylo’s bed, some things that look like manacles poking up through the top and bottom. 

“Lie down,” the guard instructs. 

Kylo hesitates and gets kicked in the back. He stumbles forward onto his knees with an angry shout, hoping that Snoke will allow him to kill this guard in the arena for his disrespect. Guards are nothing, replaceable. But they are not slaves, and when Kylo turns onto his back on the cushion and looks up at the dark rows of seats, he sees Snoke sitting at the center of the highest row, smiling as if he approves of the guards’ rough handling. They’re unlocking the chains around Kylo’s wrists and ankles, but only to pull his arms and legs apart, refastening them into the manacles and spreading him wide. Helpless.

“What is this?” Kylo shouts, addressing Snoke, so out of his mind with roasting arousal and growing anger that he risks treason to voice this question. 

“Do not worry, Kylo,” Snoke says. Indulgent. He seems relaxed, almost cheerful on his cushioned throne above. “You will be released from these restraints after you have successfully bred with each omega. The initial rush of stimulation can prove too much for some alphas, especially those like you who have never known the touch of an omega before. The omegas can be harmed, inadvertently, during that frantic first rut. This is for their safety, as they are quite valuable to me in their way. Once you have sated yourself within each of them, you should be calm enough to take them again without restraints.” 

Kylo growls in acknowledgement and tests the strength of the restraints as the guards move away. He can thrust his hips upward, but his legs and arms are pinned fast. He tries to fight the expanding panic in his chest, unable to remember the last time he felt so helpless. Perhaps not since the last of his rebellious streak was beaten out of him at age eight. He still bears the scars, though none of those mark him so distinctively as the one across his face, gashed there just last season during a fight with an uncommonly lucky wildling girl who escaped his pursuit of her in the chaos of battle. 

Remembering that humiliation inflames him anew as people begin to enter the seating area, whispering to each other and staring wide-eyed at Kylo while they move through the rows above. They are all finely dressed, many of them familiar from the box where Snoke sits and watches Kylo’s arena fights. Kylo’s skin burns as their eyes rake over him, his feet and hands twitching with involuntary attempts to cover himself, held fast in his bonds. His cock is as hard as it’s ever been, pulled up against his belly and dark red, leaking a thin stream of sticky liquid onto the flat of his stomach. 

“As you can see, friends,” Snoke says when the seats are full. The low murmur of conversation dies off instantly, all who are present turning to the Emperor. “We have here our prize breeding stallion, Kylo Ren the Fearsome, never before bred and recently dosed with a draught that should keep him virile for hours worth of entertainment. He is tied down for now, for the safety of my omega broodmares, who will be lead in shortly. They will take the lead, so to speak, until we can trust our dear Kylo not to break them in half with that massive sword you see standing between his legs.”

Laughter. Kylo tenses, grinding his teeth together and letting his hands curl into fists. He stares directly upward, at the dark ceiling, where hangings of velvet fabric sway softly. His nose twitches. For a moment he thought he’d caught a hint of that blanket’s scent on the air. 

“Many of you will be familiar with the omegas I’m breeding with Kylo,” Snoke continues. “They were the designers of our glorious new weapon, the likes of which has never been seen in civilization. Its peerlessly destructive force will ensure my empire’s reign over the world for ages to come. Its designers are the brilliant twins with the fiery hair who have slaved obediently over this creation since their genius was discovered in their boyhood. They call themselves Hux and Techie.” Snoke chuckles at these names as if to suggest they are idiotic. The crowd titters dutifully in agreement. “I have had Hux’s hair cut short so that we can tell them apart. He has been the project leader in designing the weapon, a very proud slave with a unique vision. His devoted brother has a talent for meticulous attention to detail, meanwhile, and his nimble fingers were indispensable in bringing Hux’s design to life. Guards, bring them from the holding area. We are ready.” 

There’s some polite applause as the guards leave to obey this order. Kylo can smell food. He can hear wine being poured, a few whispers dared here and there. He twitches against his restraints, his mind growing fuzzy. At first it feels like a calming of his angry blood. Almost like sleep. His cock leaks two fat drops of precome and his balls pull up tight against him as the feeling morphs violently from relief into renewed, piercing, agonizing need. 

He can smell them. _The omegas_. They’re close.

Kylo hears himself making a sound that he can’t contain. There’s laughter again from the seats. He clamps his mouth shut, but even then the sound emerges, a gravelly keening that makes him feel weak, as if he’s bracing himself for a massive wave to rush over him and drown him even as it puts out the fire that has lanced across every inch of his skin. He almost wants to weep, something he hasn’t done in nearly twenty years. 

By the time the guards reopen the doors that lead onto the stage Kylo is writhing, sucking at his lips and fucking his overfull cock up against the air. Snoke has allowed an excited whisper to move throughout the gathered crowd. Kylo is so crazed that he almost can’t focus on the sight of the two figures being brought onto the stage, toward him. Their scent hits him first and makes him howl with need: they are wavering before him like heat on a horizon, they are suffering, wet, hot to the touch, cradling him and stabbing him with their scent all at once. 

The guards leave, locking the stage doors behind them, and Kylo bites his tongue hard to stop the noises he’s making. He blinks, focuses. The omegas hang back, naked and unadorned, their slim shoulders touching. 

A tear slips from each of Kylo’s eyes. He forgives himself this weakness. Anyone would weep in the presence of two blisteringly beautiful gods, as he is now. 

They are somehow both identical and distinct. Techie is the one with the longer hair, Kylo remembers, his mind half-activating in his fever-pitched state. Techie looks curious even as he cowers, pale eyelashes batting over his red-rimmed eyes. He pulls a piece of his long, fragrant hair into his mouth and chews at it like a boy, though the twins are at least Kylo’s age if not a bit older. Kylo writhes and groans, longing to comfort this timid omega even as he also longs to plunge riotously into him. Hux stands very straight beside Techie. His effort to keep his flushed face stoic is endearing, arousing, fascinating. Kylo wants to take a loving bite from Hux’s milky skin as he admires this attempt at restraint. One reaction Hux can’t conceal is his rising cock, flushing deep red to contrast his skin. Techie is getting hard at the same rate, and when he rubs his slim thighs together Kylo can see it: the slick. Wet and plentiful, dripping down from his wanting hole. 

Kylo tries to scream, then to beg them to come closer, but his voice chokes off into sobs and his eyes overflow again. His body feels like it’s hurtling toward a flat, hard surface that he will soon splatter against, and like the only way to stop this screeching descent into obliteration is to get his cock into those omegas now now now, _oh_ , he’ll die if they don’t come near--

“Armie,” Techie whispers, reaching for his own cock and not quite getting there before he glances around at all the observers and shrinks. “I-- I want--” 

“Go on.” Hux’s voice is hoarse. Kylo wonders if the building heat was so intense that it made him scream. Their eyes lock, and Hux’s glitter with hatred. “He won’t hurt you,” Hux says to Techie, and he swallows heavily. “He’s tied down.” 

“Come with me?” Techie begs in a whisper, touching Hux’s wrist and already taking a nervous step forward, the slick on his thighs seeping downward. 

Hux nods and walks toward Kylo, moving alongside Techie. They’re still so far away, too far, and Kylo is bucking up against the air above him desperately, though he doesn’t want to scare them. 

_Help me_ , he thinks, meeting Hux’s angry stare again. _Help me, please, I’m hurting, too_.

“Oh,” Techie says, under his breath. He lowers to his knees slowly, near Kylo’s bound right ankle. “He’s-- He’s-- Armie, he smells so, _unh_ \--” 

Techie wipes his wet mouth with the back of his wrist and reaches for Kylo with a shaking hand, then pulls it back and touches his own cock instead, whimpering at the lack of relief that doing so brings. Hux kneels down behind Techie and sighs. Hux’s thighs are wet, too, and the smell of him, of both of them, this close-- Kylo is going to die. He’s whining, thrashing as much as he can, wishing he could calm down enough to tell them that it’s okay, to beg them to touch him. 

“Interestingly,” Snoke says, the sound of his voice making Kylo snarl with rage, “These two omegas are not only unbred but have never experienced a heat before this one. I had them medicated to prevent it, until their work was complete. So this is all quite new for them, and they’ve been bearing it for days now. Their guards tell me they’ve been very agitated.” Snoke’s eyes sparkle darkly as he says so, or maybe Kylo is seeing things. 

“Please,” Kylo says, looking from Hux to Techie and back again. “Please, please--” 

“They hide their agitation far better than our brave warrior,” Snoke says, drawing a distracted chuckle from the crowd.

Techie reaches again for Kylo’s ankle. When his soft palm makes contact they both groan, and Kylo can hear the crowd exhale. Hux exhales, too, loudly through his nose. Techie’s mouth has fallen open. His pupils are so fat, eyes locked on Kylo’s now. He slides his hand up over Kylo’s leg, to his knee and then his thigh, crawling closer. Kylo whimpers and forces himself to stop humping the air, needing this continue, needing so much more. 

“Armie,” Techie says again. He seems to be calling to Hux when he uses this word. “He fuh-- Feels so-- You should-- Oh, so good--” 

Techie’s gaze moves to Kylo’s cock. He swallows and doesn’t touch it yet, moving his hand up over Kylo’s hip and onto his stomach instead, avoiding the growing puddle of precome that’s spreading there. He kneels near Kylo’s chest and touches him with both hands, crying out with little noises of astonishment that border on fright when Kylo responds to the feeling with guttural groans, throwing his head back. 

“Armie,” Techie says, barely audible. 

“Call me Kylo.” Kylo is proud of himself for grinding the words out, and he flicks his eyes to Hux’s after he has, then meets Techie’s gaze again. “Please-- _please_.”

Techie whimpers and leans down to bury his face against Kylo’s throat, breathing in the scent of his skin. Kylo turns his face and inhales against the top of Techie’s sweet head, moving his lips there as if to chew on the pleasure that surrounds him and soothes him with that smell so close, pressed just under his nose. As before, this calming sensation quickly morphs into a stab of dizzying need that makes Kylo growl and jerk his hips upward with angry insistence. Techie gasps and pulls back. 

“Omega,” Kylo says, unable to keep from showing Techie his teeth. “Take from me what you need.” 

Techie looks at Hux, who nods and then glances up at the seats. At Snoke.

“Yes, omega,” Snoke says, as if to answer Hux’s daring look. “Take your place. If you go on torturing your alpha like this he might not be very kind to you once we release him from his chains.” 

Hux sucks in his breath and turns away, hiding the rage on his face from Snoke. So he did not know that Kylo will be unleashed after the initial mating. 

“I want to, Armie,” Techie whispers, holding his fists up over his mouth as he stares at Kylo’s cock, eyes huge and nearly black with his expanding pupils. “Oh, I want-- It _burns_ , so-- so empty, I just need--”

“Go ahead,” Hux says. “I’ll be right here. I won’t leave you.” 

Kylo rolls his head toward Hux as Techie moves down to straddle him. Techie is shaking so hard that he seems to vibrate the very air around him. Hux watches for a moment and then looks away. He meets Kylo’s gaze just as Kylo feels the wet bump of Techie’s soaked, puffy hole against the head of his cock.

“Gods,” Kylo says in a whisper, another tear slipping out. Hux reaches over to stroke it away with the back of his finger.

“There are no gods here,” Hux says, muttering this as Techie gasps and begins to sink down onto Kylo, who in the moment would strongly disagree. Techie feels godlike, tight all the way down but so receptive, opening for him like an otherworldly embrace. 

The relief breaks over Kylo in a backbending quake and then more softly and deeply as Techie comes to a gasping seat upon him. Techie is arched into the feeling, too, his skinny chest spread wide and his little pink nipples peaked. His cock drools onto Kylo’s stomach, adding to the pile of precome that Kylo’s left there. Now Kylo is throbbing inside Techie, closed up inside the hot, velvet grip of him, and he doesn’t even need to move his hips yet, doesn’t need anything but this.

Until, suddenly and intensely: he does. It’s a low moan from Techie that sets him off, the pleasured sound of it. Kylo snaps his hips up with a growl. Techie yelps in surprise and moans again as he begins to move, too, dragging his sensitized rim up and down Kylo’s shaft. There are sounds from the crowd: approval, embarrassed chuckles of arousal, someone chewing meat. Kylo fixates on Techie and tries to ignore their surroundings as much as possible. 

Techie looks beautiful, ethereal, like a mercy from the heavens. His expression is slack with pleasure, mouth slightly open, orange-gold hair sticking to his damp cheeks in places. Kylo licks his lips, wanting to taste him. 

“Oh,” Techie says, riding harder, faster. “So good, so good, so good--” 

Kylo groans in agreement and fucks up into him, feeling triumphant when each hard snap of his hips makes Techie shout and bear down harder, all of his nervousness given way to this seeking of fullness, friction. 

Distantly, Kylo is aware of Hux. He turns to see if Hux is watching this. He is not. He’s shaking, breathing heavily, dragging his hand through his hair. Suffering for how much he wants to shove his brother aside and take his turn, and suffering for the want of this at all. 

“Fingers,” Kylo says, barely getting the word out as Techie’s bouncing brings him closer to a release he’s been wanting for days.

Hux turns to look at Kylo. His cheeks are so red. His hand moves absently, angrily on his own cock. 

“What,” Hux says, his voice pressed flat.

“You could-- Ride-- My fingers, until, until--” 

Hux glances behind him, at Kylo’s manacled right hand. Kylo presses two fingers upward, offering them. Hux shakes his head and turns away from them, his blush spreading down over his neck, all the way to his pale chest. 

“I can wait,” Hux says, though the pained grit of his voice suggests that this won’t hold true for long.

Feeling strangely rebuffed, even as his orgasm coils tighter and closer to spilling, Kylo returns his attention to Techie, who is stroking himself up and down on Kylo’s cock in full body blows, braced not on his knees now but on his feet, slamming his hips down and making an animalistic noise that has pleased and maybe even somewhat disturbed the crowd. Hux steadfastly keeps his eyes turned away even as Techie grabs his cock and shouts out his climax, shooting all over Kylo’s chest. Kylo whines when he sticks his tongue out but is unable to capture a single drop of it. 

He’s going to come. It’s like smelling rain on the air after a drought, and his eyes get wet again. They blur over as Techie sags down onto him heavily, letting Kylo fuck up into him at will, Techie’s shaky hands braced on Kylo’s chest as he tries to regain his breath. 

“Omega,” Kylo grinds out. Techie’s eyes snap open. They’re pretty, soft green, dizzy and lost. “Look at me,” Kylo instructs, working his hips up in a merciless rhythm. “Tell me-- Tell me how you feel.” 

“Full,” Techie whispers. 

“Ha, I’ll-- I’ll show you what full feels like--”

Kylo isn’t sure what sort of face or noise he makes when he comes. It’s something beyond what an animal could manage, pleasure that still feels like rage, like a sword that he’s throwing through ten enemies at once, only Techie isn’t his enemy. He’s soft and sweet as he takes it, bending forward to press little kisses to Kylo’s jaw, whimpering when he feels Kylo’s knot expanding inside him. Techie hides his face against Kylo’s throat while they both come back to themselves and begin to notice the murmur of the crowd, glasses being refilled and commentary being exchanged. Kylo pulls against the chains that restrain his arms, wanting to hold Techie against him. Techie is at least taking comfort in the smell of Kylo’s post-mated skin, rubbing his face and nose against it and breathing it in deep. 

“You feel so good,” Kylo says, glad to have what feels like his real voice back. 

“Mhm.” Techie shifts and gasps when he feels the knot holding him in place. “Yes, you-- We-- It’s been so hard,” he whispers, shivering. He’s got his legs clamped tightly around Kylo’s sides, his skinny arms tucked between his chest and Kylo’s. “We were-- Alone, we didn’t know-- No one t-told us what was happening, at first.” 

“I’m here now,” Kylo says, a bit more loudly. He turns to Hux, who is shaking hard, reeking of what he needs from Kylo. “I’m here,” Kylo says, flexing his fingers again. “I’ll take care of you.” 

Hux glances at Kylo. He turns and considers Kylo’s fingers, even moves toward them in a sluggish shift, but at that point Kylo feels his knot start to shrink. Techie exhales with relief and nuzzles at Kylo’s throat, licking him there. 

“You did so well,” Kylo says when Techie sits up to look into his eyes. He thinks of calling Techie ‘doll,’ but it doesn’t seem right. “You can kiss me,” he says instead. “If you want.”

Kylo has never been kissed. He’s seen it in stage plays, stupid things that entertain the crowd as they find their seats before his fights in the arena, and once on the night before battle: two of the soldiers in his camp, against the side of a tent. They thought no one could see them. One was crying softly, afraid that he would die when morning came and the enemy’s army arrived. The other whispered _none of that, come now_ as he kissed him and held his wet face.

Techie kisses like that: soft, trying to give comfort, his lips shaking against Kylo’s. When he licks at Kylo’s lips they part for him, and Techie gasps at the feeling of Kylo’s tongue sneaking out to brush against his. 

“The knot is receding,” Snoke bellows, as if Kylo doesn’t know this. “Our first omega is successfully mated. Let’s have a toast to a healthy heir to the Empire, born of this union.” 

Kylo turns to Hux while the crowd cheers and drinks. Hux’s eyes are red-rimmed. He’s dragging his short nails over his belly, hard enough to leave marks. Trying to use this pain to bear the other. 

“Come here,” Kylo says as Techie slides up off of him, hissing at the feeling of disconnecting. Kylo is still very hard. The drug will likely keep him this way until he faints from overexertion. Hux’s hand goes still on his belly. He turns to Kylo and blinks away the thin film of tears that were threatening to spill. 

Hux stands when Techie does, helping him to stagger away from Kylo. Techie lies down near Kylo’s right hand and moves to rest his head on Kylo’s open palm when Kylo tries to reach for him. They smile at each other tiredly. Techie pets Kylo’s wrist, just under the manacle that holds it down. 

Kylo grunts with surprise when he feels Hux lowering onto him already. He’s oversensitive but still wanting, cautioning himself not to thrust up into Hux’s tight heat as it descends around him. He turns from Techie and jerks with surprise when he sees that Hux has his back to him. He’s facing Snoke as he lowers himself onto Kylo’s cock. 

“Turn around,” Kylo begs, keeping this request as low as he can, though he wants to bark it angrily. “Face me.”

“No,” Hux says, still sinking down onto him. 

“Hux--”

“Do not _speak_ my name as if you know me, slave.”

“Armie,” Kylo tries instead, biting this out with hatred even as Hux’s descent upon his cock soothes the fire in him that was building again, Hux’s split-open ass coming to rest against Kylo’s coarse hairs as he finds his full seat. Hux is panting with as much dignity as he can muster, tense across his shoulders after hearing Kylo dare the nickname that Techie used for him. Techie has tensed, too, his hand closing around Kylo’s wrist like a warning, squeezing. 

Hux turns his cheek toward Kylo. He’s radiating satiation along with his boiling rage, his legs spread around Kylo’s thighs and his hands coming to Kylo’s knees as he leans forward to show Kylo the curve of his spine. 

Beautiful, beautiful. Kylo hates how beautiful Hux is, because he can’t see the full beauty of his surrendered face, and he almost hates how good Hux feels. Different from Techie, pulsing around Kylo’s cock in teasing, needy clenches. 

“Are you not a slave, too?” Kylo asks, pressing his cock up into Hux and dragging a satisfying moan from him as he lowers his hips back down. Hux slumps forward and digs his nails into the skin around Kylo’s knees. 

“I forgot my place,” Hux says, teeth grit. This sounds like the repetition of someone else’s words. Kylo refuses to look at Snoke, staring instead at Hux’s trembling shoulders. “I suspect you have had that problem yourself, gladiator.” 

Kylo’s wrists tug against their bonds again, his right hand flinching under Techie’s warm cheek. He wants to touch Hux’s back even more than he wants to tear free from these chains, push Hux onto all fours and fuck into him like a beast. Wants to brush his fingertips along that graceful spine and soothe his palms over Hux’s narrow shoulders, to taste the fine sheen of sweat upon Hux’s flushed throat. He wants more than anything to see Hux’s face as he leans forward and begins to move his hips, gasping as softly as he can manage as he lets himself feel Kylo deep inside him, holding him open wide. Hux is suddenly far more wet than Techie was, slick cascading down from his shallow pumping on Kylo’s cock and soaking the hair between Kylo’s legs, seeping between Kylo’s thighs and teasing into the crack of his ass. 

“Omega,” Kylo says. His voice is tighter than he’d like it to be. “Tell me. How do you feel.” 

Hux pulls off almost entirely, letting Kylo watch as his wet hole slides up, up, all the way to the fat tip that holds him just open before he shoves himself down again with a groan. Kylo curses and throws his head back, hears noises from the crowd that are close to being groans, too.

“Tell me,” Hux says, pulling up again when Kylo resumes watching. “How you feel, _alpha_.” 

How could Kylo puts words to this feeling? He’s no poet. It’s even better than it was with Techie, perhaps because the initial flush of mindless need has been sated. Or perhaps because Hux moves with more finesse. Strategically. Taking his pleasure from Kylo as if Kylo is his tool. 

“Feel like I’m going to fuck you again when I’m freed of these chains,” Kylo says, straining against them as he rolls his hips up into Hux and trying to move with the same fluid grace that Hux is employing, despite his racing need. “And again, and again, while you beg me not to stop, to never leave your hungry omega hole empty and wanting of me.” 

When a kind of murmur moves through the crowd, Kylo regrets allowing them to hear that. It was for Hux alone. He feels wet pressure around his fingers and turns to see Techie sucking two of them into his mouth, his eyes fluttering shut. He’s hard again, touching his cock idly. 

Kylo turns back to Hux, who is moving more urgently now but still with a steady rhythm, still nearly pulling off of Kylo’s cock with each press upward before relishing the downward push again. 

“You’re fucking beautiful,” Kylo says, growling this out like he’s angry about it, because he is _livid_ , burning anew as he’s forced to watch Hux’s beauty seem to unfold and unfold before his defenseless eyes. It occurs to him with a cold drop in his gut that Hux might be facing away from him because he finds Kylo too ugly to bear, especially with the scar that now splits his face in two. The thought makes Kylo press up hard into Hux on his next downward slide. He feels needy even now, some essential comfort still so far out of reach. 

“I think our alpha is ready to be released from his chains,” Snoke says, the gravel of his voice freezing Hux in place with Kylo’s cock just halfway in him. “He has spent himself in the first omega, after all, and this one seems capable of controlling his lust. I’d like to see what happens if the alpha is freed. What say you all?”

Cheers from the crowd should be a relief, but Kylo feels betrayed by them. Hux still hasn’t moved, as if he’s now not sure that he’s allowed to. When the guards enter, Techie sits up in a panic and scoots closer to Kylo. All four guards ignore him, each going to one of Kylo’s bound limbs. His legs are released first, and when they are Hux sinks down onto him entirely, his hands braced over Kylo’s thighs as he remains otherwise motionless. Kylo’s left hand comes free, and then his right. The guards run for the door like Kylo is a beast at the center of the arena, angry and ready to fight the first challenger. 

When Techie blinks at Kylo he seems to be asking what the hell will happen now. Like Hux, he’s avoiding even a glance at his brother during the breeding. Kylo flexes his sore wrists and shifts his gaze to Hux, who is breathing hard and keeping still, as if he’s afraid to be sighted by some predator. 

“Seems our gladiator is overwhelmed by his options,” Snoke says, with a bite of warning. The crowd laughs nervously, everyone watching now. No silverware clinks against plates. No one sips from their cup.

Kylo sits up slowly. Hux shifts back against him as he does, his hands going to Kylo’s knees again as they pull up between Hux’s thighs, spreading him wider. 

Kylo holds his breath as he dares a first touch, sliding his hand over Hux’s ribs and whimpering through his exhale when he feels the softness of the skin there. Hux’s breath stutters for a moment, then calms. He rests his back against Kylo’s chest. There’s a soft sound from the base of Hux’s throat as he begins to let his weight settle there, the tension easing from his shoulders as Kylo rubs both hands gently over his chest. 

“Omega,” Kylo says, murmuring this against Hux’s ear. 

“Yes,” Hux says. His head falls back onto Kylo’s shoulder. He shows Kylo his bared throat, his pink, gasping mouth. Kylo moans and brings his left arm up to hold Hux against him, his right hand sneaking down to Hux’s belly, then to his cock. “Oh--” Hux turns his face against Kylo’s neck. His skin is hot all over. His legs are spread so wide. Kylo’s cock is so very deep inside him, throbbing. 

“Beautiful,” Kylo whispers, reaching down to fondle Hux’s balls before moving lower, feeling around the slick rim of his stretched-open hole. Hux gasps and presses into the touch, his eyelashes tickling Kylo’s neck. When Hux reaches back to touch Kylo’s face it feels like a kindness, particularly when his soft fingertips linger at the base of Kylo’s scar.

“I was dying,” Hux says, burying these words against Kylo’s throat. “Without this, you’ve no idea.” 

“I do. I was, too.” 

“It’s-- It’s agony.”

“Yes. But how do you feel now?”

Hux moans and flexes upward, just slightly, before pushing his hips back down with a grunt. 

“Like you were made to be inside me,” he whispers, reaching back to clutch and then tug at Kylo’s hair. 

Kylo reaches up under Hux’s thighs, which are so slim that they fit well in his hands. He lifts Hux up halfway and pushes him back down, reigniting every screaming nerve along the length of his shaft. Hux gurgles encouragement, going limp in Kylo’s grip, his head lolling on Kylo’s shoulder. 

“That’s right,” Kylo says. He bites at Hux’s throat, licks over the red marks his teeth left. “Just let me take care of you. I’m here now. That’s good, fuck, so good. Hux.” 

Hux flexes and moans softly when Kylo pumps him up and down harder, faster. He’s losing his ability to keep a rhythm, close to coming again. 

“Touch yourself,” Kylo says, not wanting to let go of Hux long enough to do it himself. “Your cock and your nipples. Make yourself feel good, let me see.” 

Hux eagerly complies, eyes closed and mouth open as he pinches at his nipples and fists his cock, precome bubbling from the slit and streaking down over his fingers. Kylo watches with fascination, fucking Hux onto his cock more roughly when he feels Hux start to clench up around him, drawing close to his climax. 

“Do you want my come inside you?” Kylo asks, trying to keep his voice low even as he wants to roar this question out. “I have so much, so much to give you. It will spuh-- spill out of you even after my knot deflates. Slide down your thighs and mix with all this slick you made for me.” 

“I want it,” Hux says, gasping, his hand flying on his cock. “Fuck, I don’t know-- Why, there’s no-- Reason to it, but, but-- I’d fucking kill you if you didn’t come in me.”

At the mention of killing Kylo, Hux comes all over himself, moaning. Kylo watches, transfixed, forgetting the crowd and even Techie. Hux grunts softly as he comes down from it, meeting every crazed upward jab of Kylo’s cock with that little noise.

Kylo opens his hand over Hux’s belly when there is no going back. He presses there, imagining he can feel the shape of his cock against his palm, then imagining how Hux will harden and grow and bear his child. 

_Our child will be strong enough to kill the Emperor_ , Kylo thinks, trying to will this into Hux’s mind, too, as if they can share unsaid thoughts. _Or perhaps you and I, together, will be strong enough long before that_.

When Kylo comes inside Hux this feels not only possible but certain. Holding Hux against him and groaning against his shoulder, Kylo feels unstoppable in a way that he thought he’d lost at six years old. 

“Gods, gods,” Hux says, over and over, when he feels Kylo’s knot holding him open, holding him in place. He’s soft in Kylo’s arms, letting Kylo cradle him. Kylo hides as much of Hux’s skin as he can, wrapping his arms and then his legs around him, breathing against his shoulder. He lifts his head to kiss Hux’s cheek and whimpers at the taste of Hux’s sweat when he licks it up. So good, everything’s so good suddenly. Kylo feels delivered, better than he has after any victory, better than he did after the relief of popping his knot inside Techie. This is what being free felt like, he remembers. Like everything will be okay. 

“Glorious,” Snoke says, spoiling things before Kylo’s knot has even deflated. Snoke stands and raises his glass. “To the heirs to the Empire!” he bellows. “To watch them compete for my favor and my throne as they mature from boys into men shall be the joy of my long lifetime.” 

Hux sniffs, maybe at the presumption that Snoke’s heirs will both be men. Kylo has to resist the temptation to snarl and shout in front of all present that Snoke will never lay a hand on their children. With Hux still closed in his arms and around his cock, it feels impossible that Snoke could lay claim to any of them ever again. Kylo mouths tiredly at Hux’s throat and imagines two strong, clever children who look like Hux and Techie with a touch of his own better features, standing at his side and calling him father, reaching for his hand and being hoisted safely into his arms. 

Servants come out with buckets of perfumed water and cloths for washing. Kylo scrubs at himself listlessly after disconnecting with Hux. He’s still hard, and Techie is eying his erection, wanting to climb onto him again. Kylo beckons him with a crooked finger and Techie rushes into his arms. Kylo lets him lap and suck at his cock until neither of them can stand waiting any longer. He presses Techie onto his back and fucks him like that, looking up to check the location of Hux periodically. Hux is rubbing a damp cloth across his face again and again, surely making the soft skin there raw. 

By the time Kylo has Hux again, Snoke’s guests seem to be getting bored. Hux is on his hands and knees, grunting and snapping his hips back against Kylo’s thrusts, two of Kylo’s fingers sucked into his mouth as he drools and moans for more. Kylo can feel that his heat is winding down. Hux’s smell is different already, softer and less heady. Kylo supposes that might be because he’s pregnant. Behind them, Techie is asleep, Kylo’s come still slopping from his bright red hole. Kylo reaches around to fist Hux’s cock, wanting him to be similarly sated. He’s surprised when Hux comes almost instantly, gasping and jerking in Kylo’s grip. 

“You were ready,” Kylo teases, murmuring this in Hux’s ear as he fucks him through the last sharp clenches of his orgasm. 

“I like your hands,” Hux confesses, his head dropping forward between his arms. 

Kylo comes inside him then, possibly harder than he did the last time.

He slumps onto his side and holds Hux against him, licking at Hux when he whimpers at the feeling of a second wide stretch from Kylo’s knot. Hux is tired, fucked out and shivering in Kylo’s arms. The rows of seats are more than half empty when Kylo looks up, many of the spectators probably back in their own quarters fucking their hands or each other by now. Snoke remains, of course. He’s watching intently as Hux rubs his face against Kylo’s bicep like he might sleep there. 

When Kylo’s knot deflates for a fourth time he pulls out and groans with relief, never so glad to see his cock go soft. Come and slick gushes from Hux’s worked open hole, making a mess of his already wet thighs. Kylo stands on shaking legs and goes to the washing-up things, wetting a fresh cloth and bending down to pass his fingers over Techie’s side as he walks back toward Hux. Techie makes a soft sound and goes on sleeping. 

Hux remains slumped onto his side, too, and he allows Kylo to clean him. After the worst of it is mopped away, Kylo leans down to lick softly at Hux’s hole, chuckling against it when Hux gasps and presses back. 

“You still taste sweet,” Kylo says, moving up to nudge his nose against Hux’s cheek. “Are you feeling all right?” 

“For the first time in days,” Hux says, nodding. He sweeps his sweaty fringe back and turns to peek at Kylo. “Fuck, but. I don’t want to do this alone.”

“This?”

“What comes next.” Hux reaches down and settles his hand over his belly. Kylo puts his hand over Hux’s, and when he hears the door open behind them he’s ready to kill whoever comes through it, anyone who tries to take his sated, pregnant omega away from him. 

It’s Snoke, of course, standing with several advisors and the four guards who unlocked Kylo’s chains. 

“Are you sure?” Snoke asks, giving Kylo and Hux a cold stare. He’s speaking to his head advisor, a scientist who approved the plans Hux and Techie devised for the megaweapon. 

“Yes, it’s quite known,” the advisor says sternly. He’s the only one who is permitted to speak to Snoke this way. “The pregnancies will develop far more healthfully if the alpha is close at hand, watching over the omegas. It’s the way of things, only natural. The omegas will feel protected and content, whereas the stress of being away from him might cause the pregnancies to terminate.”

“I see.” Snoke looks from Kylo to Hux as if he’s already wary of allowing them to spend much time together, sensing that it could be a danger to him. “Well. If that’s the way of things, that is the way we shall do it. Take him to the twins’ residence. It’s larger, and I’ve had it outfitted for their expectant needs.”  

Kylo is hauled up first. No one bothers to chain his wrists or ankles this time. He’s marched naked and exhausted through the halls, crusted with come despite his efforts to scrub it off himself with damp rags. He can smell Hux and Techie on him, and behind him, as they’re lead toward the twins’ bedchamber. 

“What of Kylo’s fights?” Snoke asks. “Am I to understand that risking his life in combat might mean losing the pregnancies?”

“Absolutely it would. Think of the stress the omegas would feel if their partner was perhaps sent to die! No, he’ll need to be exclusively in their company until the children are born.” 

“That’s a shame. The people will miss watching their champion compete. Especially after word of his admirable performance today gets around.” 

“Well, think of how joyously they will welcome two strong heirs to the Empire. It’s well worth it, I’d say.”

Kylo is beginning to wonder if the advisor isn’t also thinking of using this as an opportunity to overthrow Snoke once and for all. He meets the advisor’s eyes just before he’s marched into the twins’ residence, and there’s a slight raise of his brow when he catches Kylo’s curious look. It sends a peel of hope through Kylo’s chest, like an ally’s battle cry across a war-ripped field.

The twins’ rooms are larger and far nicer than his own, which doesn’t seem fair, but Kylo’s resentment doesn’t last long. When he’s left alone with Techie and Hux he stands before them awkwardly, naked and sleepy and waiting for Hux to give direction. 

“I’m going to bathe before I sleep,” Hux says. He touches Techie’s arm. “Are you all right?” he asks. 

Techie yawns and nods. “I’m glad we got to, uh. Keep him,” he says. He sneaks a look at Kylo and smiles before turning to fall into the twins’ bed, which is large and beneath a window that lets in midday sun. 

Hux rolls his eyes. “Please join me in the bath before using our bed,” he says, giving Kylo a cool appraisal. “Your scent is less charming now that we’re-- fuck. Mated.”

The tub in the twins’ washroom is large, and Kylo wonders if they usually bathe together. He watches Hux fill it with warm water and scented salts, and goes on watching as Hux sinks into the water, hissing softly when his raw ass is submerged. Kylo stands near the door and assumes he’ll have use of the bath when Hux is done. 

“What are you waiting for?” Hux snaps, looking at Kylo as if he’s done something offensive. “Get in, there’s plenty of room.” 

Kylo climbs into the tub, the addition of his body making it so full that the water nearly sloshes over the rim. It feels good: the temperature is just right, and the salts offer a faint medicinal tingle that seems to cleanse his filthy skin like a hands-free scrubbing. Hux is rubbing at his flushed skin with a sponge and looking at the window above the tub rather than at Kylo. All that is visible is a square of cloudless blue sky. 

“How did you get such nice rooms?” Kylo asks. Though they can both fit, he can feel the bump of Hux’s long legs under the water. 

“We were special,” Hux says. “Until Snoke got what he wanted from us. Although now I suppose he just wants something more. Do you think he’ll let us see them at all?”

“Them?”

“The--” Hux winces and meets Kylo’s eyes. “Babies?” he says, softly. 

“He won’t have anything to say about it.” 

Kylo expects Hux to make fun of him for his delusions of grandeur, to roll his eyes. But Hux smiles. 

“The advisor hates him,” Hux says. 

“I noticed. Have you a good relationship with the advisor yourself?”

“I do, and the advisor’s youngest son is a technician who worked with us on the weapon. He’s called Matt, and he’s the man’s favorite child. And he’s pathetically in love with Techie.” 

“Hmm.” 

Hux smiles again when Kylo does. He passes Kylo the sponge. 

“I thought you’d be an awful brute,” Hux says as he watches Kylo scrub at his chest. 

“I am an awful brute.” 

Hux laughs. Kylo’s heart swells. 

“Why does Techie call you Armie?” Kylo asks. 

“Because it’s my name. My first name. Armitage.” Hux extends his leg toward Kylo, resting his heel on Kylo’s shoulder as he leans back against his side of the tub. Under the water, Kylo touches Hux’s other leg: his knee, his slender thigh. 

“So why do they call you Hux?”

“It was our father’s surname. We weren’t always slaves. I thought one of us should keep the name, to honor our family. The one we were taken from.” 

“I was taken from a noble family, too,” Kylo says, rushing the words out. He’s never told anyone. “My uncle was a monk in a forbidden order. I was to be one myself, if I had stayed.” 

They hold each other’s gaze, silently acknowledging what Snoke took from them along with their freedom: their families, only Hux still has Techie, and soon there will be the children. Kylo reaches up to rub the soft arch of Hux’s foot upon his shoulder. 

“How did you get the scar?” Hux asks, certainly meaning the one on Kylo’s face. 

Kylo stops rubbing, still holding Hux’s foot. He searches Hux’s eyes for disgust. Hux only looks curious, also tired. 

“A wildling girl ambushed me during a battle in the woodlands,” Kylo says. He’s never told anyone this. His story for the troops and Snoke was that a mighty barbarian from the woodland tribe got a lucky blow in before Kylo crushed his skull. “She ran away after doing it, back into the woods. I had never been made to fight a woman before. She was much smaller than me but had a wild kind of skill. She was beautiful and young and very angry. I let her go.” 

“That scar is my favorite thing about you,” Hux says. “Out of all your appealing aesthetics.” 

Kylo isn’t sure about the meaning of the word aesthetics, but he thinks it has something to do with beauty. His heart begins to pound so hard that he’s afraid it will shake the surface of the bathwater. He rubs Hux’s foot again, watches his mouth fall open when it feels good. 

“Why should the scar be your favorite,” Kylo asks, when he’s sure his voice won’t crack. 

“Because it means you’re human, whereas the rest of you looks like a god.” 

“I thought-- When I first saw you and Techie, when I was chained down and your heat was so-- I thought you were both gods.” 

“We’ll all be near to that if we manage to do what we’re thinking of doing.” 

“We will.” 

Kylo pushes Hux’s foot from his shoulder and moves toward him in a clumsy swoon. The water slops over the side of the tub. When they’re close, faces just a few inches apart, Kylo reaches around Hux with the sponge. He applies more soap to it and washes Hux’s back, listening to Hux’s quick little breaths and watching the spreading flush on his cheeks. Kylo is very careful not to make a sound when Hux touches his scar. 

But then: “You’re more beautiful than your brother,” Kylo says, scrubbing at the back of Hux’s neck as if he cares about nothing but cleaning it. 

“That’s impossible.” Hux’s voice is tight. He keeps looking at Kylo’s mouth. “We-- We’re identical.” 

“I know. And yet you are still more beautiful to me.” 

“Maybe you just prefer short hair.” 

“I prefer something, indeed.”

Kylo cannot name it, but Hux has it. He can taste it on Hux’s lips when he finally brings their mouths together. It’s a savage kiss, so different from the ones he shared with Techie. They huff into each other’s mouths, both dragging their teeth across the other’s already swollen lips. Hux sucks at Kylo’s tongue as if it’s a delicacy he’s trying to lick from its shell. Water spills over the edge of the tub as they move against each other, too spent to get hard but kissing ferociously, hands roaming over each other’s soap-slick backs. 

“I’m not like my brother,” Hux says when Kylo pulls free to breathe. “I won’t fall in love with you,” he says, even as he tries to kiss Kylo again. 

“Good,” Kylo says, leaning back just far enough to evade him. “You shall rule this land with me when we are done with the bloodshed. Love would complicate matters.”

“Yes.” Hux takes hold of Kylo’s face with both hands. He’s nodding, looking hypnotized. They both need to sleep soon. “That weapon is mine,” Hux whispers, a mad fury burning now in his eyes. “I made it, and only I shall use it.” 

“And this is mine,” Kylo says, putting his hand on Hux’s belly under the water. It’s soft, just a bump of flesh that doesn’t even fill his palm. “And yours. Our heir.” 

Something frightened and unsure creeps back into Hux’s eyes at the mention of the child. He puts his hand over Kylo’s and nods, swallows. 

“You’ll protect us?” he says. 

“You know I will. Can’t you smell it on my skin? That I would raze this city to the ground before I let anyone take you from me?” 

“Techie, too.” 

“Yes, of course. No one hurts him, or our child.” 

“Let’s get out,” Hux says, bracing his hands on the sides of the tub. “He’ll be wanting company, after all that. Wanting you.”

Hux dries off, casting looks at Kylo’s body while he does the same. It makes Kylo’s cock stir, and he can still smell the downslide of the heat on Hux, the need of Kylo that will come again after some rest. He follows Hux back into the bedchamber, feeling transfixed. 

They find Techie lying on top of the blankets on the bed, which is just big enough for the three of them. Techie still smells like their sex, which makes Kylo’s cock twitch again, though all he really wants now is deep, long sleep. Hux puts on a pair of loose pants and climbs into bed behind Techie, drawing a blanket up over him before tucking himself to Techie’s back and hugging an arm around him. Kylo kneels at Techie’s other side uncertainly. Techie wakes with a soft noise and presses back against Hux, who is watching Kylo’s face. 

“Here, come here,” Techie says, pulling Kylo against him. 

Kylo wraps Techie into his arms, reaching around him to hold Hux, too. He has big arms, long limbs. Techie and Hux both fit well within them, and Techie is quickly asleep again, curled against Kylo’s chest. Hux reaches over Techie to neaten Kylo’s hair. 

“Sleep now,” Hux says, brushing his fingertips over Kylo’s scar. “When you wake, the revolution begins.” 

It’s a strange sort of lullaby, but Kylo rests well after hearing it, holding everything he will fight for safe in his arms. 

 

***

**Author's Note:**

> **
> 
> For a hint of what's to come for these three, check out [this amazing (SFW!) art](http://5ovspades.tumblr.com/post/160039607427/for-seeds-of-revolution-by-hollycomb-because) by 5ovspades!!  
>  
> 
> A short epilogue is [also available here](http://hollyhark.tumblr.com/post/153796455575/so-in-the-roman-verse-since-twins-are-in-rens) if you're interested in what happens next for them!


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